"He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest; My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song. I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, For nothing now can ever come to any good."
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仿生太空人
2024-09-19 09:02
浮生如梦
2024-09-18 10:23
54修汪
2024-09-19 02:19
阿Sam
2024-09-19 08:22
不二回忆
2024-09-19 05:30